Tiny Dancer
by ClassyClassic16
Summary: Broken hearts and Broken minds. Dark subject matter. Brittana. OneShot.


Brittany Pierce was lying on her bed, on the verge of tears. Santana, Santana Lopez, the girl she loved, had just told her that they had no chance of being together. Brittany was just a quickie for Santana, a quick act of sex with no emotional attachment. Santana might be able to separate love and sex, but that was asking the impossible from Brittany. It didn't help that the blonde had been harboring a secret love for the Latina since they were children.

Brittany felt the tears run down her cheeks in a moment of release. The way Santana had so bluntly stated that they would never happen stung her, it felt as though she wouldn't be happy again. She had suspected that Santana had felt this way, but she ignored it. She never thought Santana would be so rough in her delivery with the obvious news. Brittany felt heartbroken.

She rolled over on the bed, still fully clothed. Santana had insisted on sex when she came over last night, but Brittany just wanted to the Latina to hold her. She didn't want sex last night; she wanted time with her pseudo-girlfriend. She had told Santana how she felt, last night, she had confessed her love for the raven-haired girl, and Brittany had cried when Santana pulled away from her.

So she had just sat there, stone-faced while Santana paced the bedroom, telling Brittany how she could never love her back, how Brittany wasn't her girlfriend, they just had sex, friends with benefits if you will. Brittany had kept everything inside, and she had fallen asleep to an empty bed because Santana had gone to sleep on the couch. Brittany knew she probably made the Latina uncomfortable by saying what she had said, but she wanted Santana to love her back. She loved Santana so much that it hurt her.

At some point in the night, Santana had come upstairs grumbling that the couch was hurting her back. Brittany had woken to the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. Santana had crawled into bed, with her back towards Brittany, but the blonde was happen that they were at least in the same bed. When Santana had fallen asleep, she had unconsciously rolled over and hugged the blonde tightly.

Brittany had woken up that morning in Santana's arms and she had smiled to herself. The happiness was short lived. When Santana woke up to her the blonde tangled around her, she had freaked. Brittany had tried to get her to lie down again, but Santana was out of bed, yelling that she and Brittany would never be a couple. That she would never love Brittany back.

The blonde was crying, she felt all the happiness leave her body as the Latina had made her way into the bathroom, slamming the door in the process.

And now, here she was, lying on the empty bed, trying to forget about what had happened. She couldn't; of course, everything was flooding back in one swift punch after another. Brittany didn't want to move, everything hurt, and she was having a huge headache.

Reaching over into her bedside table, she pulled out a small bottle of pills. They were painkillers and sleeping pills, the little white tablets shook in the plastic container as Brittany pulled them out. She had had them since she was in the hospital a few months ago for a fractured wrist.

She knew what would happen if she took too many, she was well aware of the risks she was facing taking all of them. But Brittany felt so bad, so empty, as if the real her had ceased to exist. As if Santana had taken her happiness to the bathroom with her, and left this shell of Brittany to deal with the real world.

Brittany took out two, and swallowed them, gagging slightly without the water to help them go down. She pulled two more out of the bottle and swallowed them down. She didn't know when she would begin to feel them take effect, but she hoped it would be soon. She took out the tablets two at a time, and swallowed them.

Trying to sit up, Brittany felt the room begin to swim. Spots danced in front of her eyes, and her head was pounding. She tried calling for Santana, but the most she could get out was a slurred cry. Brittany crashed back on her pillow, feeling her breath escaping her, trying to hold on, to wait for Santana to find her. She wanted her last moments to be with Santana holding her.

Brittany heard the door open, but now she was struggling to breathe and keep her eyes open. The spots were still swimming, and her head hurt really badly. She felt a sort of tingling feeling in her left arm, and heard Santana scream, running to the bed.

Listening to the Latina's voice, Brittany smiled. She couldn't manage to say anything, she didn't know what was in the pills, or how many she had taken, but she knew that was what Santana was trying to ask her. Brittany wanted to tell her to sing, but she couldn't get the words out.

Brittany felt Santana's hair brush against her cheek as the she kissed her. Brittany smiled at the last thought of Santana kissing her. She felt Santana holding her, and then she felt a searing pain in her chest, and black. So much darkness.

Her heart had simply stopped beating.

-.-

Santana Lopez was a walking wreck, everything reminded her of Brittany. Every damn thing. She blamed herself for all that had happened, she blamed herself for getting mad at the blonde for asking why they couldn't date. She hated herself with pure, unwavering hatred for saying what she had said.

Santana had seen how crushed Brittany looked when she had said they would never be together. She had come into the bedroom and she had seen the blonde in her pajamas lying on the bed. She had seen the empty, rather large, bottle of pills. She felt as though her heart would stop beating.

She painfully remembered Brittany's touch; the way she used to be so gentle with Santana, and the way she could make the Latina shiver at her touch.

Now, here she was, inside the massive church, draped in black, for Brittany's funeral. Santana sat through the service crying. Not loudly, but she felt the tears leave makeup streaks on her cheeks. She rose and delivered a eulogy which made her cry so hard that she couldn't speak clearly. She gripped her brother as he led them back to the pew.

Santana couldn't be bothered to do anything anymore. Days passed by in blurs. Entire weeks passed by while she just sat in class, in a stupor, moving only when Quinn pulled her to the next class.

She had quit cheerios, she had quit glee; she just went home and cried, more and more each day. Santana felt so empty that it hurt to breath. The Latina had secretly envisioned a life for her and Brittany after high school. They would've gotten together, and had kids and gotten married and all that sappy bullshit that Santana usually hated but Brittany loved.

And Santana cried harder when it came back to her that it was her own fault that she couldn't be with Brittany. Her own damn fault.

-.-

Santana gripped the bottles she had brought with her, and tugged her jacket closer around herself. The cemetery wasn't closed yet, and she had walked here, so if she could avoid whatever security there was, she would stay the night.

Walking to Brittany's grave, Santana felt the tears begin to well in her eyes. She played with a tiny figuring in her pocket. Finally reaching the marble slab, Santana dropped onto the grass, and ran her fingers over the name etched in gold script.

"Brittany, I'm so, so sorry. You don't understand how much I miss you." Santana felt the tears splash down her cheeks and choked back a sob. She took out the figurine, a tiny ballet dancer, even though Brittany excelled at all dances. Santana crossed her legs and set the porcelain dancer beside the name.

She popped open the bottle of vodka, and cracked open the sleeping pills, a painkiller from her mom's medicine cabinet. Taking a swig of the liquid courage, she felt the alcohol burn her throat and it left a bitter taste in her dry mouth. She set the two pills on her tongue and swallowed, washing it down with more vodka.

And there Santana Lopez stayed, beside the grave of her dead girlfriend, drinking and swallowing pills. No one had told her to go home yet, so she kept swallowing one tiny capsule after another, downing them faster as she noticed her vision become blurry. She crashed backward, and felt something hit her head. She weakly put the last pill in her mouth and swigged the last vodka.

Santana knew what was happening; she felt her breath become shallower. She waned to cry knowing Brittany had gone through this fear, or maybe the blonde had known. Santana would've done everything different, if she had the chance. She felt the tingling sensations in her left arm, and she tried grabbing aimlessly for a certain blonde that wasn't there.

She gasped as she felt a sharp shooting pain crack the centre of her chest. For a spilt second, she was wide awake, and she saw her life flash before her eyes. Then, there was black, and nothing more.

Her heart had simply stopped beating.

* * *

Yes, I know pills don't work this quickly, but I wanted a quick death without blood, so let's just twist reality for a second, and pretend they do work like this.


End file.
